


In Your Slowly Fading Forms

by NeonPistachio



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, M/M, Post-Season/Series 09
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:35:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22631134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeonPistachio/pseuds/NeonPistachio
Summary: New Zealand brings up some unexpected truths.
Relationships: James Hathaway/Robert Lewis
Comments: 12
Kudos: 137





	In Your Slowly Fading Forms

**Author's Note:**

> My own version of what happened after the final credits. It hurt too much to leave it alone.
> 
> Please excuse mistakes, I self-beta.

New Zealand is beautiful, the trip of a lifetime that Laura and he talked about. Never the less, after nearly two months Robbie is bored out of his skull. It doesn’t help that James is refusing to give him details of the cases he’s working on, telling Robbie that without being able to actually go out and talk to suspects it’ll be more frustrating for him to get only pieces of the picture. He absolutely refuses to email transcripts of the witness interviews. _Go on,_ Robbie tells him on the phone that night. _I’ll be consulting again when I get back. It’s not like I’m a civilian._ James refuses again and changes the subject. 

Laura’s family are lovely and Laura is clearly having the time of her life. Robbie gets on with them well enough but it’s a bit overwhelming sometimes, seeing them so often. He’s very glad he and Laura have got their own place; if they were staying with her family he doesn’t know what he’d do. But still, he can’t spend all his time with Laura. Since they became a couple they’ve gone away together for a couple of weekends and a week in Italy, but most of the time one or other of them has been working. And Robbie is beginning to realise that spending all his time with Laura is… he doesn’t want to say stressful, but, well… he’s not enjoying it as much as he’d have expected. He thinks James is picking up on this, though his carefully worded questions have allowed Robbie not to talk about it yet. 

They’re at Laura’s cousin’s house for yet another barbecue – Robbie thought it was a stereotype about the southern hemisphere liking to barbecue, and maybe it is, but if so Laura's cousins seem to be making up for the general lack. Robbie’s cooed over baby Madison – wearing their gift and looking very sweet – and he’s got a beer, but he’s not much in the mood to socialise again. Instead he’s commandeered one of the garden chairs and set it slightly to the side so he can text James in peace. He’s in the middle of another rant about the beer here – James is threatening to ship over a few six packs if it will get Robbie to stop grumbling – when Laura comes over. 

‘Alright over here?’ she asks, dropping a hand onto his shoulder. Robbie smiles up at her. 

‘Yeah, just talking to James.’

Laura smiles too, but it looks a little tight around the edges. ‘Of course. What else would you be doing.’ 

‘He’s me best mate,’ Robbie protests, a little surprised at her unhappy tone. ‘I miss him.’ 

‘Surprised you have time to miss him,’ she replies, and that’s definitely bitterness in her voice. ‘You’ve spoken to him more than you’ve spoken to me.’

‘Laura!’ Robbie exclaims, genuinely shocked. ‘Don’t be silly, love. I speak to you all the time.’

Her lips tighten again, and this time she’s not smiling. ‘Half the time you’re speaking about James.’

‘He’s my best mate!’ Robbie protests again. ‘Of course I talk about him to you. You know what he’s like. I worry about him. An’ it’s not the same, talking on the phone.’

She looks at him for a long moment and Robbie can’t interpret that look. He reaches out to take her hand, and she lets him for a moment before she squeezes his hand and lets it go. ‘I’m going to go and get something to eat.’ She walks away, and Robbie watches her go, confused by her attitude.

On his lap his phone buzzes again; James sending him a photo he took earlier, of the sunrise over the river with the front of his rowing scull just visible at the edge of the picture. Or is it the back of his scull? Robbie can’t remember. He texts to ask. _I’ll never understand women,_ he follows up with, and quick-smart James replies with _The cry of man through the ages._

 _Helpful_ , Robbie tells him, and wishes he could see the smirk that James would give him in reply. Maybe he should try that skype thing Lizzie uses to talk to her Tony – he wants to see James properly. It’s just not the same over the phone. 

*

Robbie sends his usual morning text to James, asking him about his day. It’s a bit odd, him starting his day just as James is finishing his, but he’s getting accustomed to it, even as he wishes they could do this over a pint. James is still refusing to send him anything work related, though he keeps dropping hints that his and Lizzie’s current case is one Robbie would enjoy puzzling out. Robbie’s half tempted to call him and push him harder for details, but Laura’s still asleep and he doesn’t want to wake her yet. She’s been a bit funny about him pressing James for case notes as well. It’s different for her, he thinks. She likes her job, yes, but it doesn’t drive her the way his drives him. He was genuinely worried Moody wouldn’t let him come back and is missing the nick something fierce, whereas if Laura’s boss told her she could extend her sabbatical or possibly take early retirement he’s pretty sure she’d take the offer. They’ve not talked about it. 

There’s noises from the back of the flat, then Laura appears. Robbie stands up to drop a kiss on her cheek. ‘Morning love. Sleep well?’

She ignores the question, nodding to the phone on the table. ‘Talking to James?’ she asks, going to put the kettle on. 

‘Aye,’ Robbie agrees. ‘Apparently he’s got an interesting new case. Was going to call him and see if he’ll read me in.’ Across the kitchen Laura’s movements stop and her shoulders tense. ‘Something the matter?’ he asks.

She turns to face him, kettle abandoned. ‘Robbie, I think we need to talk.’

‘Oh,’ Robbie says, more than a little worried. Never words he wants to hear.

Laura pulls out a chair at the table and Robbie retakes his. They sit across from each other, Laura staring at her clasped hands, Robbie staring at Laura. He waits for her to speak. 

‘This isn’t working,’ she says eventually. Robbie makes an instinctive protest, but Laura pins him with a look and he stays quiet. ‘You’re not happy,’ she continues. ‘We’ve been pretending everything’s fine but I think we’re both lying to ourselves. You’re more interested in work and James than in anything I can offer.’

‘That’s not true,’ Robbie tells her, but even to his ear it sounds weak. He does miss both James and work. He loves Laura but one person can’t be everything. He says that, and Laura looks him in the eye. 

‘Are you telling me that if you were here with James you would be texting me every day to ask about autopsies?’ And Robbie has to admit that he wouldn’t be. _But if I was here with James I wouldn’t have to. We wouldn’t be away so long, and even if we were I wouldn’t be bored. Not with James about._

It feels wrong to be surprised by this, but it’s still a shock as he looks at Laura in mute dismay at his own thoughts. Looking back at him, tears in her eyes, he realises she already knows. 

*

James is holding that bloody sign again when Robbie arrives in the airport a month later. He stops a trolley length away and squints at it. ‘Is that the same one as the first time you picked me up?’

James lowers the sign. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Robert,’ he says in that way of his that means Robbie can’t quite tell if he’s saying yes or no. Before he realises it he’s taken five steps forward and pulled James into his arms. James hugs him back just as fiercely, and Robbie thinks James might be trembling a little. Does James feel skinnier? ‘Missed you,’ he tells James and feels James sigh against his neck. 

‘Missed you too,’ James replies. 

Eventually they disentangle and Robbie reclaims his abandoned luggage trolley. James keeps pace beside him as they head for the exit, walking in step in the way they’ve been doing for years. 

‘Glad to see you’re not wearing that same shirt,’ James jokes, and Robbie scowls at him. 

‘That’s me travelling shirt,’ he complains, and James smiles as he pulls out a cigarette and oh, now Robbie really is home, the familiar scent of James’s cigarettes, the feel of James beside him.

‘Been doing some soul searching,’ he tells James in the car on the way back to Oxford. ‘Lead me to realise some things.’

‘You don’t say,’ James murmurs, concentrating on the roundabout they’re approaching. He took the news that Robbie and Laura had split up with shock, phoning Robbie to urge him to try again. When Robbie refused he didn’t push and Robbie hopes he’s guessed right about why James didn’t. 

‘I’ll tell you later,’ he says, though in some ways it would be easier to do this in the car, where they’re not face to face and James can’t run away.

James accepts this with a nod. ‘How’s your son?’ he asks, and Robbie tells him about the week in Australia with Mark. 

‘You’d hate it,’ he tells James. ‘Lots of spiders.’

James shudders. 

*

‘Where to?’ James asks as they near Oxford. ‘Back to your place, or…?’

‘Not my place any more,’ Robbie corrects gently. ‘It was always Laura’s place really. Suppose I’ll need to find somewhere to stay.’ 

‘You don’t have a hotel booked?’ James checks, and when Robbie confirms he nods decisively. ‘You’ll stay with me then.’

‘You sure?’ Robbie asks, though he had hoped for this.

James nods again. ‘I’ve not seen you in three months. It’ll help me acclimatise to your face again.’

‘Cheeky sod,’ Robbie tells him without heat, and James smirks.

They pull up in front of James’s cavernous flat and Robbie wonders if it’s become any more homelike since he’s been away. Outside the front door is a ceramic flowerpot half filled with cigarette butts. James notices him noticing. ‘A gift from Nell. She said she was sick of the flat smelling of fags.’

‘Not tempted to quit?’ Robbie asks hopefully, and James gives him an unreadable look, opening the door of the flat and going in without replying. Robbie follows, and any hope that James will have made himself a home quickly dies. The flat hasn’t changed since Robbie last saw it, other than that the smell of cigarette smoke is missing. It still seems too big, too empty despite all the books, and Robbie wonders if the recycling bin will be full of bottles. 

He’s very, very glad he’s here now. He just hopes he’s read things right.

James shows him through to the spare room, carrying Robbie's case. ‘I’ll get the bedding,’ he says and vanishes off. Robbie, beginning to feel chilled in the high-ceilinged room, opens his bag to rummage for a jumper. James returns as he’s piling everything back into the case. 

‘Might as well put it in the drawers,’ James tells him, carefully busy at the bed. ‘If you’re going to be here a while.’

Robbie isn’t fooled by James’s casual tone. _Begin as you mean to continue._ ‘Aye, you’re right,’ he says. ‘Makes sense to stay here for a while, if you don’t mind.’

‘Stay as long as you like,’ James replies, muffled by the duvet as he pulls the cover on. 

‘Good,’ Robbie says, satisfied, and James looks at him quizzically, wondering at his tone. Robbie avoids the unasked question for the moment. ‘Pub lunch? Aeroplane food isn’t up to much and I’ve missed being able to get proper fish and chips.’

‘New Zealand wasn’t quite the flavour revolution you hoped for?’ James asks, straightening from the bed and smirking.

‘Oi,’ Robbie protests gently. ‘I’m all for a bit of flavour revolution, but there’s not much to beat a proper chippie.’

James hums in agreement. ‘One of the few things I missed in Spain. That and proper tea.’

Robbie nods, struck by this surprise mention of James’s not-quite-a-pilgrimage. They didn’t discuss it at all when James returned, beyond Robbie ribbing him about the lack of contact. Now Robbie wonders if James has been so evasive on the subject for the same reason Robbie hasn’t talked about his split with Laura. If his sudden departure without warning had anything to do with Robbie and Laura’s new-couple status.

Robbie doesn’t want to talk about this yet. ‘Vicky arms do for you?’

*

They settle in the garden with a pint while they wait for their fish and chips. Apparently James has taken the day off to fetch his old governor, and they’re in no hurry. ‘How’s Lizzie doing with Monty?’ Robbie asks idly, and James smirks. 

‘She likes him more than Tony the Tabby, apparently. I think she enjoys having something to come home too.’

‘You’re not tempted to get something to come home to yourself?’ Robbie asks, fishing, and James gives him his blank smile. 

‘I’ll have you, for a while at least. And you don’t leave hairballs under the couch.’

‘Can’t promise that,’ Robbie jokes, and James grins, but Robbie wonders again at James’s reluctance to find a partner. _Here’s hoping that’ll change,_ he thinks to himself, and takes a draft of his pint to toast the thought. 

‘How’s your dad?’ Robbie asks, and James’s long face gets even longer. 

‘Doing as well as can be expected,’ he replies, and Robbie knows about the unhappiness hidden beneath that carefully nonchalant tone. James admitted, not long after Robbie arrived in New Zealand, that his dad had had a series of mini strokes then later a bigger, more destructive one. 

‘And Nell?’ This is all ground they’ve covered over the phone, one way or another, but it’s not the same, and he didn’t realise how much he relied on James’s minimal body language until he had to decode things from word alone. 

James shrugs, and Robbie takes it to mean they still haven’t resolved their argument over whether to move Phillip to a different care facility. 

Their food arrives and James busies himself cutting up his fish. ‘Soul searching, Robert?’ he prods gently, and though Robbie thought this would be the place to talk about it with James, suddenly he’s not sure. Yes it’s familiar ground, but it’s also public and neither of them have ever been good at emotional displays. One way or another, this is likely to get emotional.

‘Later,’ he says, putting it off again. James gives him a searching look but nods agreeably. 

‘Have you told Moody you’re back early?’ he asks, and Robbie hesitates.

‘Not yet.’ He wants to wait on the results of their conversation before he talks to Moody. ‘Thought I might give meself a few days to get over the jet lag before I go right back to work.’

James looks amused. ‘Don’t remember it stopping you last time,’ he says and Robbie rolls his eyes.

‘That was ten years ago,’ he says, and winces inwardly at the thought. Ten years. God.

‘You don’t look a day older than when I first met you,’ James says, facetiousness covered by a ridiculously sappy smile, so sappy it has to be another bit of facetiousness.

‘Don’t I wish that was true,’ Robbie huffs, and hopes his nervousness doesn’t show through.

*

James apparently ‘hasn’t had time’ to go shopping this week, and Robbie does him the courtesy of pretending to believe him – he’s still worried that James is subsisting on fags, coffee and probably booze. Well, that’s bloody well going to change. 

In the supermarket Robbie plays the ‘returning from foreign climbs’ card to get James to agree to make a few things he’s cooked for Robbie before. It gets him a few good natured grumbles about not running a hotel, but James selects the ingredients without much complaint. They lug the food into the flat and Robbie helps put it all away before putting the kettle on. ‘Think it’s about time I told you about New Zealand.’

James looks apprehensive below his careful smile. ‘Sure you wouldn’t prefer something stronger?’ he jokes, and Robbie shakes his head. 

‘Think it’s best we do this sober.’

They sit on James’s conference sized sofa and Robbie takes the opportunity to entice James into eating biscuits with his tea. 

‘You know Laura and me split up,’ Robbie begins, and James nods carefully. ‘I think spending all that time together, no work to give us a break, it made us realise that we’re not right for each other.’ He sighs. ‘I think we both sort of expected to get together eventually, at least in the last few years. It was easy an’ it made sense since we were friends. I love Laura and she loves me, but we were never in love, I don’t think. She was me transition person,’ he says, and wonders if James understands what Robbie's telling him. 

James hasn’t said anything, so after a minute Robbie continues. ‘Laura wants adventure and new things to try. When I was retired she was all for me having a project to do all the time, and then another one for us to do together. Not much call for pottering about. She’s also very independent. She doesn’t need me smothering her, an’ I like taking care of me partner.’ He hopes James notices the carefully gender-neutral word choice. ‘I may not be domestic-like, but a quiet evening and a cuddle, someone to talk to, that I can do.’ He shrugs. ‘I’ve missed her a bit since we split, as a friend like, but I’m not sad about it. She says she’s not either. Said she’ll not settle for second best if she can find someone who fits.’

‘I’m glad neither of you are unhappy,’ James says quietly, and Robbie nods. He can’t look at James for this next bit. He’s planned this, over the last month – thought about it vaguely during the first trial separation week, more when he and Laura officially called an end to their relationship. 

‘She didn’t like me texting you so much either,’ he says, and James makes a sound like Robbie's punched him.

‘Oh God,’ he gasps, and Robbie can feel him stiffen and curl in on himself where he’s sitting beside Robbie. ‘I’m sorry,’ James hurries on, sounding absolutely stricken. ‘I didn’t mean – I shouldn’t have – I’m sorry, Robbie.’ He’s clearly blaming himself, and Robbie won’t have that. He reaches out to grasp James’s knee, intending it to be a reassuring touch, but James flinches away from the contact.

‘Why didn’t you say?’ James sounds anguished. ‘I never meant to -’

‘Stop,’ Robbie cuts across him firmly. ‘It was my fault, not yours. I’m the one who spent so much time texting you about your cases and talking about you and missing you. You’re not to blame.’ He doesn’t have to look at James to know James doesn’t believe him. He tries again. ‘I could have said something if I wanted it to stop. Truth is I didn’t even notice I was talking to you more than I was talking to Laura til she pointed it out. Just felt normal.’

‘You were talking about me?’ James sounds terrified for some reason. Robbie ploughs ahead. 

‘Aye. I said it was natural to miss you, an’ that one person couldn’t be everything. Laura asked if I’d be texting her all the time if I was there with you instead.’

James makes a small, wounded sound, and Robbie decides he’s going to have to step things up a bit. ‘D’you remember what you said to me, when I decided not to go to New Zealand?’ _Show her that you love her. Don’t assume that she knows. People make that assumption and it’s a mistake._

‘Yes.’ James sounds hollow. Robbie nods. 

‘Well, Laura reminded me she’d told me something similar, years ago, about you.’ _People don’t know how you feel unless you tell them._ Turns out sometimes you don’t know how you feel about someone until someone else points it out. ‘I reckon I’m long overdue to tell you.’

‘Robbie, please -’ James begs, and Robbie doesn’t know what he was going to say, can’t stop for fear he won’t get this out.

‘I love you, James.’ He swallows after he voices the words, holds his breath as he waits for James’s answer. 

James doesn’t say anything. 

His breathing is uneven, shallow and quick, and Robbie finds himself remembering his words to Laura when he told her he wasn’t going to go with her. _If I go now, I’m not sure there’ll be anything for me when I come back._ If he’s miscalculated, if James doesn’t feel the same… he’s lost the thing he was really coming back to. 

‘How do you mean?’ James asks quietly, voice careful. ‘As a friend? As a son?’ His tone is unreadable. 

Robbie can’t hide the shudder at the second suggestion. He’s never thought of James as his son. When Moody referred to him as a father figure to James… it was disquieting even then. He does not feel at all paternal towards the man. ‘Not as a son,’ he says firmly. 

‘A friend, then,’ James says, and he sounds relieved. Part of Robbie doesn’t want to shatter that relief; wants to pretend that’s all he feels, but he can’t any more, can’t pretend he’s not in love with James, even if James doesn’t want to hear it. 

‘Not as a friend,’ he says softly. ‘Or not just as a friend.’

‘How then?’ James demands, and he sounds anguished, like Robbie is destroying him, but Robbie’s gone too far to turn back now. He needs to acknowledge this, even if it breaks them. He needs James to know he’s loved, unconditionally loved. 

‘I love you like I love Val,’ he says – present tense because even as he loves James, a part of him will still always love Val. ‘I’m in love with you, James Hathaway.’

James slumps forward, body bowed as he cradles his head in his hands, and Robbie watches, heart breaking, as the second love of his life hides from him. 

‘I’m sorry,’ he tells him quietly. ‘I needed to tell you. If you don’t want to know, I’ll not say anything more, but I’m past the point of pretending.’

James still has his head buried in his hands, and Robbie sits in terrible silence to hear the verdict. He was wrong, catastrophically wrong; James doesn’t love him, and now he has to wait to find out what, if anything, can be salvaged of their decade-long friendship.

Finally James sits up, lets Robbie see the perfect expressionlessness of his face. ‘You’re a fool, Robbie Lewis,’ he says, and Robbie thinks he can hear the audible crack as his heart breaks. ‘You have no idea how I feel, do you?’

‘I’m sorry,’ Robbie says wretchedly. James is right; he’s been a selfish, thoughtless fool. So sure James has been waiting for him that he’s destroyed the best thing in his life since his wife died. God, what arrogance. James could have anyone; why would he want Robbie?

‘You should be,’ James says, and he sounds absolutely broken. ‘I’ve been in love with you since practically the first case we worked together. You never even noticed, did you?’

‘What?’ Robbie asks, gasps, sure he must be hearing things, and James gives a humourless laugh.

‘I think I fell in love with you right after the Regan Peverell case,’ James tells him, but he sounds so detached now that Robbie can’t take any joy in the words. ‘You know, I can’t even remember what sparked it. It was just there one day when I looked up. I saw you and I realised I loved you.’

Robbie swallows. He doesn’t know what to say. James doesn’t sound like he wants this at all. 

They sit in silence, untouched tea going cold. Robbie wonders if the flat always felt so echoing. Eventually he stirs up the courage to speak again. ‘So should I find a hotel?’ He expects James to agree, maybe offer to make some calls if he’s feeling magnanimous, but instead James looks like Robbie's slapped him.

‘You want to leave?’ he asks, and he sounds so hurt, and Robbie is confused.

‘Isn’t that what you want me to do?’ he asks tentatively. ‘You don’t exactly seem keen on me right now.’

James shakes his head, but it’s not a dismissal. ‘I just… I can’t believe this isn’t a dream.’ He still sounds hurt, and Robbie debates for a second before he reaches over and lays a hand on James’s arm.

‘It’s not a dream,’ he says, as gently as he can manage. Inside, he feels as though he’s balancing on a seesaw and one false move could send him tipping away from James. For a long moment James doesn’t react, then slowly his hand comes to cover Robbie's, reaching awkwardly across his body. 

‘Do you promise?’ he asks quietly, and Robbie's heart breaks all over again at the painful hope in his voice. 

‘Promise, bonny lad,’ he says, just as quiet. ‘I’m here, if you want me.’

James crumples, long body folding up again, but this time he folds towards Robbie, folding and twisting until he can gently rest his head against Robbie's shoulder. After a minute, carefully, making no sudden movements, Robbie shifts him a bit at a time, urging him round until he’s laid out on the couch, and Robbie finally gets to feel the unalloyed joy of holding his James close, tightening his hold as James begins to tremble, delayed shock setting in. ‘I’m here,’ he whispers reassuringly, daring to drop a kiss on the point of James’s ear, and rejoicing when that small act loosens the tension within James so that he slumps bonelessly back into Robbie's arms.

They sit in silence for a long time, but now Robbie doesn’t mind. Against his thigh, James’s fingers are moving, just the slightest tracery back and forth across the breadth of his leg. Robbie’s hand is resting against James’s back, and every so often he gives in to the urge to drop a gentle kiss onto the blond head before him. James’s breathing has evened out, shock lessening, and eventually he stirs, pushing up to take his seat again, though his hand remains on Robbie's thigh and Robbie keeps his on James’s back. Their bodies are closer, much closer, and Robbie realises they haven’t sat like this since he first kissed Laura. 

‘I gave up any hope of this,’ James says after a few seconds, avoiding Robbie's gaze. ‘When you went to New Zealand. I told myself to move on. I couldn’t.’ He sounds both like this is both a personal failing and a desperate relief. ‘I was thinking about putting in for a transfer out of Oxford when Dad goes.’

‘My bonny lad,’ Robbie murmurs, aching for James and their nearly missed chance. ‘I nearly lost you.’

Beside him, James swallows, and Robbie moves his hand a little, rubbing gentle circles on James’s back. ‘What made you realise?’ he asks Robbie, and Robbie holds back a sigh.

‘When Laura an’ me decided we might work better apart,’ he begins, ‘we tried it for a week. Laura stayed with her cousin and I stayed in the flat, and for the first time in ages I could actually relax. I had time to look at things in me own way without any distractions, an’ it made me think about the things I’d been brushing under the rug. Think Laura did the same; she seemed settled when we got together to talk about it.’ He continues gently rubbing at James’s back, remembering that awkward yet heartfelt and relieving conversation. ‘I already realised that I was missing you something fierce,’ he carries on, ‘an’ that I was always thinking about you an’ looking for reasons to talk to you. Then Laura told me to think about what our friendship meant to me, really think, an’, well, I did.’

He looks back, remembers having that talk while sitting on a bench in a park gazing at the mountains, while Laura hedged around the subject and Robbie simultaneously tried to understand and tried not to understand what she was hinting at. The way he’d dismissed it out of hand initially, protested James that was his best mate, not interested in him like that, should be with someone his own age. 

Then Laura looked at him and pointed out that Robbie hadn’t protested that James was a man, or that he didn’t think about him that way. _‘He’s me mate,’_ Robbie had blustered. _‘of course I haven’t.’_ But even then he knew he was lying, that the occasional idle wondering had, on occasion, drifted away from mere idle. That he’d had dreams, occasionally, where James was more than just a mate. That occasionally he’d sat next to James and had… thoughts. _But it’s only occasionally,_ he assured himself later, sitting in the flat alone. _Nothing serious. Everyone has thoughts like that about their friend, occasionally._ But over the next week ‘occasionally’ became ‘constantly,’ until Robbie couldn’t see a message from James without wondering. In desperation he finally visited a bar, convinced it was post-breakup blues that could be cured by a night out and maybe a warm body. It just made him long for James even more. 

He contemplated cutting ties with James, ending their friendship, and nearly crippled himself with pain at the thought, pacing anxiously until he knew James would be awake and he could call him to reassure himself that James was still there, still his friend. The thought of losing James made him feel the same way he used to do at the thought of losing Val, and if that wasn’t a wake up call then nothing would be. 

He tells James this, the part about Val. ‘I never felt like that about Laura,’ he adds quietly. ‘Suppose I should have know earlier. Think I first felt it when Katherine Dutta nearly stuck you full of tranquilliser. That scared me,’ he admits, shame faced. ‘Wasn’t ready to think about it so I did what was expected an’ tried to make a go of it with Laura.’

‘That hurt,’ James admits quietly, pain lurking in his voice. ‘You didn’t say anything, and then suddenly you were kissing her right in front of me.’

‘Is that why you went to Spain?’ Robbie asks, and James shrugs. 

‘Yes. I wasn’t lying when I said I needed a change, but I could have had that in Oxford if it was just the job. But I was so jealous, when you and Laura got together, even though I knew you and me were never going to happen. And I wanted you to be happy, but I couldn’t stay and watch.’

‘So you left,’ Robbie finishes, and James shrugs again.

‘A wounded animal will seek a safe den,’ he says. ‘But my den was gone, so I had to find somewhere else to run to.’ And Robbie feels a sudden surge of grief at these words, the realisation that he was James’s refuge and that he tossed that gift aside without realising.

‘I didn’t want to get in the way,’ James continues, ‘and I couldn’t stay. I didn’t mean to come back here after Spain, but I’ve always been weak when it comes to you.’

‘You’re not weak,’ Robbie tells him fiercely. ‘You’re one of the strongest people I know. You have such a heart an’ you keep trying even when people trample all over it.’ He swallows. ‘I’m sorry, James, that I was so blind. I didn’t mean to do that to you.’

James smiles, and it feels like the first time, feels like absolution. ‘You’re here now.’ There’s a wonder in his voice that Robbie doesn’t think he deserves, and he vows he’ll do everything in his power to keep James feeling like that, to be his refuge once more. 

‘I’m here now,’ Robbie agrees, and gathers his courage again to reach for James’s hand. James lets him take it, and Robbie brings it to his mouth to press a kiss to his knuckles. James’s fingers tighten convulsively as he does, and Robbie kisses the hand again before setting it down. James doesn’t let go.

‘You’d want that?’ he asks, sounding like he doesn’t believe that Robbie could, and Robbie squeezes his hand in return. 

‘Yes,’ he tells James simply. ‘Been thinking about this, all of this,’ he continues. ‘Hoped you felt the same. Hoped you might want this too.’

‘I do,’ James breaks in fervently. ‘I really do.’

‘You’ve thought of it?’ Robbie teases gently, and James smiles again, something of his usual cheek to it. 

‘Most definitely,’ he returns. ‘Do I take it that you have too?’

‘You could say that,’ Robbie agrees, and James looks like he can’t believe his luck. ‘Would you...’ Robbie asks and James, wonderful James, understands what he can’t say. 

‘Please,’ he says, and takes the initiative, leaning closer. There’s worry lurking in his eyes, though, and Robbie doesn’t leave him in uncertainty and suspense. He leans forward too, closing the distance and gently leading James into their long delayed first kiss.

It’s not fireworks; it’s better than that, Robbie thinks. It’s a sunlit morning; a tender caress of warmth and joy; bright and beautiful, gentle and simple. Beneath it is the promise of more; of spark and heat and need, but for the moment it’s an exploration, a beginning, the awakening of something wondrous. It goes on until they have to break apart to breathe, and Robbie finds himself cradling James’s head into his shoulder once more while James trembles.

‘Alright, love?’ he asks. James lifts his head, and he looks vulnerable and ecstatic at once.

‘Perfect, Robbie. You?’

‘I’ve never been better,’ Robbie tells him honestly.

*

‘So where do we go from here?’ James asks eventually, both of them lying on the couch again. Robbie takes a breath. 

‘Suppose I’ll have to let Moody know I’m back,’ he begins. ‘An’ that we’ve had a change of relationship?’ He doesn’t mean the last statement to come out like a question, but it does anyway. 

‘Mmm,’ James agrees. ‘Even if we can’t work together any more, I don’t want to hide this.’ He stills, then looks quickly to Robbie. ‘Unless you want to wait?’ He sounds so uncertain. ‘We don’t have to say anything,’ he hurries on, and Robbie stops him with a brief kiss.

‘I’ll tell anyone who’ll listen,’ he says firmly. ‘’M not hiding this, love.’

‘Good,’ James replies confidently, though his shyly pleased smile gives him away. ‘And what about personally?’

Robbie holds back a sigh. ‘Suppose I’ll have to look for a new place to live,’ he says, trying not to let his disappointment show. ‘Wouldn’t feel right to stay at Laura’s, an’ it’s probably too soon to try living together.’ Though he wishes it wasn’t so. He doesn’t want to be apart from James, wants to be here with his lad as much as he can be.

Against him, James stiffens at Robbie's words, and Robbie tilts James’s head up gently so he’s looking into Robbie's eyes, revealing James’s expression. ‘Stay here,’ James says, eyes desperate. ‘I know it’s probably too soon, I know you probably want some space, but please… just for tonight. I can’t – I don’t think I could bear to let you out of my sight.’ All his earlier unhappiness has returned, and Robbie wraps his arms tighter around him, trying to reassure.

‘Shhh,’ Robbie soothes. ‘I’ll stay as long as you like. Can’t say I want to be leaving either,’ he admits.

‘Don’t, then,’ James says, nearly begs. ‘Get your things from Laura’s and bring them here. I promise I won’t crowd you, you can sleep in the spare room if you want, but be here, please.’

Robbie holds him still, cups his face to bring him into a kiss. He can feel James’s fear in the desperate press of his lips, and Robbie draws it out, turns the kiss gentle and reassuring.

‘I’ll sleep in your bed, with you,’ he says firmly. ‘An’ we can fetch my things from Laura’s at the weekend. I’m not leaving you unless you throw me out.’

‘Never,’ James vows.

*

Dinner ends up being take out, neither of them in the mood to cook. They eat it early, sitting on the couch, and Robbie tries his best to stay awake enough to follow the documentary that’s playing in the background, but the jet lag is beginning to get the better of him despite the adrenaline of his conversation with James and the fact that he slept on the plane. James isn’t watching the tv either, and after the third time Robbie's eyes drift uncontrollably closed James urges him up from the couch. ‘Let’s go to bed.’

‘It’s still early,’ Robbie protests, and James smiles in a way that has Robbie feeling warm inside. 

‘I’m tired too,’ he says. ‘And I wouldn’t mind cuddling for a bit before we go to sleep.’

‘I’d like that too,’ Robbie agrees. It sounds lovely, just what he wants after a stressful day. James beside him, a warm bed, and the knowledge that in the morning he can wake James with a kiss. What more could a man ask for from life?

The bed is bigger than any Robbie has slept in before. ‘I got it extra long,’ James admits, and Robbie looks him up and down appreciatively as James settles onto the mattress.

‘Can’t wait to give it a proper test,’ he says suggestively, only spoiled slightly by the yawn midway through. 

‘Nor can I,’ James agrees, looking just as appreciatively at Robbie. ‘But I think we’ll wait to do it justice another night.’

‘Probably best,’ Robbie agrees, stifling another yawn. ‘These old bones’d probably fall asleep half way through.’

‘Don’t worry,’ James promises. ‘When we get to that I’ll be sure to keep you awake.’

‘Sounds good, love,’ Robbie murmurs, climbing into bed beside James and pulling him close. ‘Wouldn’t want to miss a second.’

‘You won’t,’ James murmurs, wrapping himself around Robbie in turn, and Robbie just has enough energy to press a kiss to his cheek before sleep washes inescapably over him.

*

Robbie wakes. He can’t tell what time it is or how long he’s been asleep. Beside him, very gently, the mattress is shaking. ‘James?’ he murmurs, reaching out to put a hand on James’s shoulder.

James rolls over, and Robbie can make out the slight sheen of tears on his face. ‘Sorry,’ he whispers. ‘I didn’t mean to wake you.’

‘What’s up, love?’ James smiles at the endearment, a small and tender smile.

‘You’re here,’ he says simply. ‘It’s more than I ever hoped.’

‘Ah, soft lad,’ Robbie whispers back, leaning over to kiss him. ‘I’ll be here as long as you’ll have me.’

‘Forever, please,’ James whispers, and Robbie draws him back into his arms, hugging him close. 

‘Forever sounds about perfect,’ he agrees.


End file.
